Photographs
by Rinnington
Summary: A little ficlet about Remus Lupin set towards the end of Philosopher's Stone. Angsty, but not overwhelmingly so.


Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I am not J.K. Rowling. I have never had a creative idea for an original story, I have never had biographies written about me or my own merchandise. *sob* So as sad as it is for me to admit it, Harry Potter and all characters within Harry Potter do not belong to me, and never will. *sniffle* I need ice cream...  
  
A/N: Well, this is my first posting in the Harry Potter section. Just a short little ficlet without much of a plot, but Remus Lupin is one of my favorites. So, anyways, hope you like it!  
  
Remus Lupin lay asleep on a faded blue sofa, the rough texture of the cheap cloth imprinted on his face in red lines. His lips moved soundlessly in the midst of some troublesome dream. The terrible scream of a Jobberknoll filled the air, and Remus rolled to the floor with a start. The scream continued, telling of shrieking winds, jabbering birds, and the tormented howls of a lone wolf. Then all was silent. Remus shivered, hearing the echoes of his own voice in the cry of the dying bird.  
  
The werewolf picked himself off the ground, and ran a hand through his hair in an unsuccessful attempt to tear through some of the tangles. He walked into the kitchen and began fixing himself a rather strong cup of tea, to prevent his drooping eyelids from getting any heavier.  
  
A glance out the small kitchen window told him that the sun had moved into the western half of the sky; and after staggering home from the woods this morning at the crack of dawn, he had slept until late afternoon. Remus drew in a sharp breath before remembering that he did not have work today.  
  
He looked sadly around the kitchen he had ignored before his dose of caffeine, and saw his meager possessions packed into boxes. Of course it had only been a matter of time before the wizards of the village noticed that the monthly reports of werewolf howls in the forest began at about the same time Remus Lupin moved in. It was probably for the best. This forest was too small, and he worried that he might meet one of the villagers. Yes, a little boy, no more than seven, out on a walk even though his parents had told him that the forest was dangerous at night. . .the boy hadn't known that that thing would jump out of the bushes, that it would fasten its glistening teeth to the boy's flesh and . . .he shook himself. That was another story entirely.  
  
So of course he had lost his job, the second in six months, and although no one had told him he had to leave, it wasn't worth it to stay. The terrified mothers worrying over their children in their homes every night, the hatred in the eyes of anyone he passed when in the village, the anonymous threats by owl. . .he needed to go somewhere else, where no one knew, and stay until they found out.  
  
This had become routine by now, but Remus' soul longed for a place he could stay long enough to consider his home, and to find people who loved him well enough to be considered his family. Once he had that, years ago, but he had graduated from Hogwarts and all his family were dead. Yes, he thought morosely, all of them. The Death Eater rotting in Azkaban is not the man I once considered my brother.  
  
Finding the memories too painful, he busied himself for awhile gathering the many things he had collected over the years- books, quills, ink and parchment; talismans and amulets said to ease transformations; and the occasional cheap magical trinket that had caught his eye for no particular reason- and put it all once more into boxes.  
  
A shuddering bang filled the shoddy cabin. It took a few seconds to realize that this was the sound of knocking. An involuntary shudder chilled his spine- had the village's magical community made good on their threats at last? No, that made little sense. A mob sent to kill a werewolf would hardly be so polite as to knock, he thought with a wry grin. Still, couldn't be too careful. He picked up his willowy wand and approached the door with the softly padded steps of a wolf stalking its prey. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle, wand held out expectantly. The door opened with a low creak. Remus was staring at a large black coat covered with dirt stains. He craned his neck upwards to look the giant in the face.  
  
"Rubeus, I must say, it's a relief. I was expecting far less pleasant company. Don't just stand out there, come in, please."  
  
Realizing Hagrid couldn't get inside because he was still standing in front of the entrance, he moved out of the way, and Hagrid had to do an awkward sort of limbo to fit under Remus' low doorframe. Remus realized he was grinning like an idiot and making a spectacular fool out of himself, but this was his first visitor since Dumbledore had come the night after Lily and James died. He didn't know Hagrid very well; he had only really spoken to him at school and later when he had joined Dumbledore's service against the Dark Lord, but this was the first friendly contact he had had in years. The life of a werewolf was a lonely one. He ushered Hagrid to the blue couch, trying to get a hold of himself and return to the pensive, mature Remus that he liked so much better.  
  
"Do sit down, I know the stuffing's coming out in several places, been meaning to get a new one. Would you like something to drink? Tea, or I'm a bit partial to Butterbeer myself. Have a couple of bottles in the cupboard. Actually, I may be able to dig up some brandy, I think I remember keeping a bit somewhere. . ."  
  
"Wouldn' want ter put yeh ter any trouble, Remus. . ." frowned the Hogwarts gamekeeper.  
  
"Oh, it's no trouble at all, I honestly don't mind, I'll never use up all of the stuff in that pantry anyway."  
  
Hagrid grinned. "Well, I wouldn' say no ter that brandy, if yeh can find it. If not, a cup o' tea will do fine."  
  
Remus nodded and paced into the kitchen, for some ridiculous reason determined to prove that he was a good host. After quite some digging, he found an old bottle in the back of one of the cupboards. He wasn't quite sure why he had it as he never drank- it was bad enough enduring the effects of his transformations without a hangover on top of it. It must have been given to him by Sirius, years ago. James had always teased him about being a packrat, but that wasn't true. James, brought up in a wealthy family, did not understand the lesson that a life of poverty had taught Remus- never waste anything, it may come in handy some day.  
  
Remus returned to the living room having poured Hagrid his drink and bringing a Butterbeer for himself. He sat down in the sagging chair adjacent to the couch which Hagrid's massive frame completely filled.  
  
"So, erm, Rubeus, what brings you out here? Quite a ways travel from Hogwarts, and with the school year not being finished yet. . ."  
  
"Dumbledore gave me the day off. I'm tryin' ter track down some ol' photos o' James an' Lily. Thought yeh might have a couple somewhere."  
  
"Actually, yes, I do have some. . .just a moment. . ."  
  
Remus crawled onto the floor and reached his hand beneath the chair he sat in. He pulled out a dusty black box that he kept out of sight and nearly out of reach. He didn't trust himself to look at the pictures inside without regressing to the depression and despair he had felt that Halloween night. He opened the lid and pulled out a red photo album, labeled in gold cursive writing "Marauders." A wave of nostalgia filled him as his fingers grasped the fragile book and handed it to Hagrid. Hagrid flipped open the book and skimmed the pages. Faces peered at Remus with every turn of the giant's hands- James, Sirius, Peter, and, eventually, Lily as it became impossible to photograph James without her there with him. He had forgotten how happy they all had been, laughing and grinning and waving furiously. What had happened to that happiness, where had it gone? How could such young and joyous faces be silenced in one night? He ran a finger over one glossy photograph taken by Lily of all four Marauders in the Gryffindor common room during their 7th year. How he longed to be in that photo, laughing, smiling, surrounded by his three best friends with the warm fire crackling in the background. It was like looking into the Mirror of Erised.  
  
"Rubeus? Why did you need to see these photos."  
  
"I was wondering if I might have some, with James an' Lily in them. I'm making up a scrapbook."  
  
Remus felt a childish desire to yank the book out of his hands, but his more prominent adult side prevented this. He didn't want to waste a single precious picture, but as Remus was outwardly unselfish to a fault, he couldn't refuse the gamekeeper's request, either. Hagrid flipped the page of Marauders, instead turning to a page with pictures from Lily and James' wedding.  
  
"Wh-what for, exactly? Why did you need a scrapbook?"  
  
Hagrid frowned, looking slightly embarrassed.  
  
"Er, a bit of a surprise fer Harry. Yeh know, he doesn' have any pictures with 'is mum an' dad in 'em, an' also 'e's in the hospital wing now, an' it's a bit o' me fault."  
  
Remus looked at the pictures again. Lily was so beautiful on her wedding day, and James was so nervous. It reminded Remus of the first time Lily and James had gone out. He had been so terrified of her he could barely speak. Poor Harry, he had never seen them. He deserved these photos so much more than Remus, who had a lifetime of memories that went with every photo.  
  
"Well, I'd say that's a worthy cause. I'll help you find some good ones. Does Harry like Quidditch, do you think? He'd be a first year, wouldn't he? Do you think he'll ever try out for house team?"  
  
Hagrid chuckled. "Already the Seeker."  
  
Remus broke into a grin. "James would be proud. Here."  
  
He turned the pages back three pages, and pulled out a picture of James and the Gryffindor team cheering and holding the Quidditch cup up in the air. The next ten or so minutes were spent pulling out various pictures and reminiscing about the old times. Hagrid hadn't known James as well as Remus had, so it was mostly Remus talking, Hagrid nodding his approval and adding commentary. "Ah, I remember that, load o' troublemakers, the whole lot of yeh. Yeah, that sounds like James alrigh'." Talking about the Marauders made Remus so miserable he longed to run into the woods and howl to the luminous moon as he had after he had first learned of their death; yet it made him laugh for the first time in years just for the pure joy of memory. Finally, Hagrid had quite a pile tucked into his coat pocket.  
  
"I think that'll be enough, Remus. Thanks fer all yer help."  
  
"Wait, there's one more. . ."  
  
He turned to the page with all four Marauders, and realized he couldn't bear to lose the only picture he had of all of them together. They were his family, too, and he needed the photograph to remind him as he had been reminded tonight that it hadn't all just been a happy dream, but a reality of three people he had loved most in the world, and who had loved him back in spite of his condition. Besides, he thought with a smile, it might be better if Harry never found out about the Marauders. Maybe then he'd grow up with a little common sense. Remus turned the page over, to the picture of Lily and James' wedding. Here were James and Lily, having just been married. Lily, radiating joy, leaned in to kiss an embarrassed but proud James, much to the laughter of their best man. This was Sirius as Remus had known him, teasing James and laughing at his own jokes.  
  
"This one."  
  
"Alrigh' then. . ." Hagrid said dubiously. "But d'ya really think Harry needs a picture o' that murd'ring-"  
  
"Yes, Hagrid, I do. It isn't the same man."  
  
Hagrid shrugged and gathered the photos. "Harry'll like a picture o' his mum an' dad's weddin', and he doesn' have ter know 'bout Sirius. Thanks fer yer help, Remus."  
  
Remus shrugged. "Anytime, Hagrid. I always have time to help. Tell Dumbledore if he ever needs anything, I'm around."  
  
Hagrid agreed, and bowed down to exit the doorway, waving. Remus watched him with keen werewolf eyes as he walked into the woods far enough that it seemed Remus wouldn't be able to see, pulled out a pink umbrella, and disaparated.  
  
A/N: I said it before and I'll say it again, this story doesn't have much of a plot. But thanks for reading, and please review! Tell me what you liked and didn't like. Didja think I did Remus alright? Sorta seemed to me like he had multiple personalities there. . .also, did I over do Hagrid's accent? It isn't as easy as it looks. Finally, for those who don't have Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them handy, a Jobberknoll is a bird that remains silent its entire life, until the moment of its death when it regurgitates all the sounds its ever heard backwards. I guess this one was young, seeing as otherwise, Remus must have been lying on the ground listening to it for quite some time. Anyways, thanks for reading, and if you take the time to review, constructive criticism is not only welcome but encouraged. 


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